Aequitas Et Sortitus
by CountinggStars
Summary: Their world was shattered into pieces the day The Saints disappeared. What will the Irish brothers' return bring when the men the O'Brien sisters believed dead show up unexpectedly in their lives once more? Lies were told, blood spilt, and trusts now lay broken. A new race against evil has begun, and this time the prize could be twice as valuable...or twice as heartbreaking.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** New story here! I'm trying my hand at my absolute favorite, The Boondock Saints! This story here will start off after the first movie and take an AU turn through the second. I have chapters of the first but I'm tempted to do this one first, see if anyone likes it, and then maybe post the first half. Who knows! Like I said, there will be definite AU and OOC to this story, though I would never change Murphy's sexy hotheadedness or stubborn tendencies. Feel free to leave feedback, I'd love it! But take any story bashing elsewhere if you don't mind! :)

**Pairing:** Murphy MacManusxOFC- Destinee Michelle O'Brien (Side pairing: Conner MacManusxOFC- Grace Rosalyn O'Brien

**Rating: **M- Language, adult themes/situations, more language and slurs, killing, etc.

**Warning!:** I won't be changing the brothers' habits of cursing or the racial slurs that are mentioned in the movies multiple times; so if that's not your cup of tea turn back now! I'll also write the scenes of the hits and what not, so if you're squeamish don't read that part! But give it a try if you dare! ;)

_**Disclaimer: I in no way, shape or form own The Boondock Saints or the characters portrayed within! I only own my OC's, their created families, and my own personal ideas/plotline twists that have been added in!**_

* * *

**-Destinee's POV-**

* * *

_"The mirror is your enemy Des,"_ I thought to myself, keeping my eyes downcast. _"Do not, under ANY circumstances, look into the mirror."_

The order I gave myself was snarled throughout my mind threateningly, the last attempt to keep me from looking up and seeing the vision of myself I'd let return after time. When things had become apparent that we were staying, I'd finally let the dye Grace and I had each doused our locks in grow out. My natural light brown now hung in its place, accented with its original caramel highlights and salon styled golden ones to keep me from looking too much like the girl I'd been before everything. All and all though, it wasn't far off from how I'd looked…before. But now, after the gossip had spread like wildfire throughout Boston of The Saints' return, when I looked up into a mirror I swore I caught glimpses of the bright blonde hair that was once there as memories I'd buried resurfaced.

My eyes darted up involuntarily, making contact with my golden brown irises.

"Shit." I hissed, pressing my fists to my eyes until there was a dull ache behind the closed lids.

Flashes of the past burst across my lidded vision, bringing back sharp stabs of pain in my chest that refused to go away. Even after _all this time_. It had been nearly seven years now since I'd seen those bright, captivating blue eyes staring back at me and it didn't hurt any less than the first day they went missing. The pain was crippling, nearly life-ending as it turned out. But that was also the past, and this was now. A now that came complete with two bright-eyed and unbelievably hyper boys.

"_MOMMY!"_

I spun around, dashing the faint tears that had just begun to seep from the corners of my eyes away so that the little boy running toward me at full speed wouldn't see them. He slammed into my legs without a care and with a brute force that was surprisingly strong for a six year-old.

"Brendan!" I scolded, though it didn't stick as my laughter at his expression bubbled through.

He giggled fiercely as he stared up at me, holding up his Superman cape with a hopeful expression. Lately he had been completely transfixed on superheroes, a direct result of not having his father around according to parenting magazines. The hopeful expression on his face told me he was praying I'd let him wear it out of the house today. Scuffling behind me alerted me to the presence of his other half and I whipped around in time to grab the little boy up before hoisting him in the air, making monster sounds as I tickled him so he was yelling, and Brendan whined from the inattention. Huffing filled the breakfast room when Grace came fumbling down the stairs around the corner with her hands full of jackets, backpacks and Lord only knows what else, already tired even though it was only eight in the morning. I snorted quietly at her disheveled appearance before scooping up the little boy who'd attached himself to my legs from the floor.

"Busy morning then?" I asked her, arching a brow.

She simply glared in response and I snickered quietly since I knew full well what a handful the boys could be when it came to getting ready, much less when they were excited. Dispelling of the haunting memories, I walked toward the large kitchen and deposited each of the boys in their chairs for breakfast.

"Waffles!" Dillon shouted, his voice high and happy.

"No!" Brendan shouted back, knocking his brother's hand aside to raise his own. "_Pancakes_!"

"_Waffles_!"

"Pancakes!"

"WAFFLES!"

"_Ahem_." I cleared my throat, gazing at them sternly. "What have I said about fighting at the table?"

"Sorry Mommy." They murmured guiltily in unison.

I turned my back after a smile but heard their scuffle continue as shoves were traded between the twins while they remained silent. It was no surprise; anytime they disagreed on something it resulted in pushing and shoving. At times yelling would add to the mix if I didn't get to them first.

"That's a familiar sight." Grace muttered, half-jokingly.

I hummed in response but made no other comment, knowing already what she meant. The twins were hotheaded and stubborn, _just_ like their dark-haired Irishman of a father. It was no surprise at all that the gene for brotherly scuffles had been passed down along with their matching dark hair and the fraternal twin gene. Brendan took after his father's eyes, perhaps even a hue brighter, while Dillon's mirrored a mix between ours which created a unique darker blue that held flecks of golden brown.

"Breakfast is served!" I shouted, plopping down fruit and cereal in front of them.

Their wrinkling of their noses was unmistakable and brought a smirk to my lips.

But, like the good gentleman they'd been raised to be, they ate without complaint. Although I did catch a few glares traded between them, as if they each believed the _other_ was responsible for the appearance of cereal instead of warm and fluffy waffles or pancakes. I grinned while I watched them before stepping away to get together lunches and double-check their backpacks, making sure all supplies were still packed away. We'd been through the mounds of supplies the night before in a hyper daze, each boy storing them away excitedly in their bags. While most of the time kids were afraid of that first day of kindergarten or school, mine were more than happy to go. I thought back to anything new I'd done with Grace and wondered if it came so easy and without fear because they knew they had the other to rely on, no matter what.

"We're going to be late if we don't get a move on." Grace murmured, downing the last of her coffee. "Duffy should be here soon."

"Aye." I murmured.

Then froze.

It happened sometimes, the occasional slip back into the easy Irish that had flowed from my mouth while we'd been with them. After they left and the boys were born I had barred myself from using the everyday terms in hopes that not speaking it would keep me from experiencing the sharp pain that would stab my chest after each time of using it. Grace had said it was unhealthy, pushing away the heritage that we had been taught and that rightfully belonged to us even before Murphy and Conner had come into our lives. I ignored her though and did my best to avoid speaking it, determined to avoid the sadness and excruciating pain that came with it. She'd gone against my wishes and started teaching the boys the language and they seemed to pick it up easily enough, like it was only natural…which I suppose it was. I was grateful to her for it though; hearing the dialect come from them every now and then was nice, reassuring almost, and I slowly became comfortable with it. I had yet to let myself fully speak it though, leaving it up to Grace to teach them.

"It's _okay_ Des." She murmured, squeezing my shoulder.

I nodded quickly and gathered backpacks just as a familiar car horn rang out from the direction of the driveway before I called the boys over and secured the packs to their shoulders. They tilted back with the extra weight comically before steadying each other, huge grins of excitement on their faces.

"Mommy?" Brendan asked, turning his face up to me as I herded them toward the door, a slow and intense feat.

"Yes Bren?" I asked, checking for my keys.

"Can we go see Grandpa Doc?" He asked, his hopeful face once again shining up at me. "To show him?"

"Yay Grandpa Doc!" Dillon shouted, already running as soon as I opened the door.

Grace darted out ahead of me to scoop him up, waiting for Brendan and I to catch up after I'd lifted him to my hip as well. I looked to her to see if she had any plans for the evening before the ones we'd already set and her answering shrug told me she didn't.

"Sure baby." I answered, smiling. "We can go see Grandpa Doc after you get home."

A bright grin lit my face as the familiar masculine voice rang out from in front of us, greeting us a good morning. I squinted against the morning light to see the friendly detective who had aged well over the years. His hair was now riddled with specks of gray, creating a handsome salt and pepper look that worked well for him. I actually preferred it over his younger color, approving of how time had treated him. He smiled down at me, cranking open the door to the backseat that already held the adorable blonde little girl he had fathered about the same time that I had gotten pregnant. She grinned at me and waved excitedly before calling to the boys who squirmed in the arms of my sister and I until we kissed them each and set them down so they could jump in.

"Aw, don't go cryin' on me _now_," Duffy whined as I watched them, shutting the door gently. "You know I still don't know how to handle a woman's cryin'."

I laughed and playfully slugged his arm until he wrapped me in a tight one-armed hug. We had become close, all three of us, after everything. Grace and I still dabbled in the game, earning our own name after The Saints disappeared. Though we had remained masked in the courtroom to everyone except the man responsible that day, rumors circulated that we had been the female duo accompanying the boys and their father that morning. It was still speculated over in the papers when we made the news, which we did…often. Duffy released me before looking down at me uneasily and I frowned, leaning toward Grace unconsciously as we both gazed back at him.

"So, not to start the morning off bloody..." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"But you will anyway." Grace quipped, a small grin playing on her lips.

He snorted quietly before putting his hands on his hips, watching us. "Which hit was you last night?"

A beat of silence passed with us all looking at each other and I vaguely picked out an unfamiliar car rounding the corner with its engine chugging before it stopped just in front of the bend of the curve. I frowned again as I gazed at it, unable to see the passengers, but the sound of Duffy clearing his throat distracted me and I returned to looking at him.

"What do you mean 'which'?" I asked, tilting my head. "There were _two_?"

There hadn't been time to catch the news that morning so Duffy's question was the first Grace and I had heard of it. He looked uncomfortable, an odd stance for him since we'd allied with him after everything. Grace and I kept him informed on our movements and he helped with what he could, sometimes even supplying us with potential marks from old files that had never been closed. Even Greenly and Dolly were in on it, though Duffy was the one that handled us directly. There had been multiple dinners and parties shared, even the birth of the boys.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Ring of child molesters uptown and a group'a Chinks that worked with the Yakavetta clan."

I instantly gripped down on Grace's arm tightly, a torrent of pain and fear rising like a wave in my body. She sucked in a breath, rather from Duffy's revelation or my grip I didn't know, but she splayed a hand on my back in comfort anyway.

"We didn't hit the clan Duff," Grace murmured, gazing at him while I could not. "That's not exactly the Angel's trademark, it's the…"

"Saints." I whispered, my gaze snapping back to his.

Duffy sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. When he looked back at us it was like he'd aged ten years, almost as if he hadn't slept in ages. My instincts tingled, warning me that something was amiss…that he was hiding something.

"What's going on Duffy." I asked, my voice monotonous, unfeeling.

"Don't know Des," He sighed, lifting himself from where he leaned on the car when the boys began to tap on the window and call out impatiently. "But I'm going to find out. I _promise_."

He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to the crown on my head in a familiar gesture like the older brother he had become before he slipped into the driver's seat of the running car. Grace and I watched as he backed down the driveway and pulled away with a goodbye honk of his horn before disappearing toward the exit of the private subdivision. We stood in silence, each submerged in our own thoughts, our own inner hells, and I again noticed the strange older model Volkswagen Beetle that was chugging back around the corner it had appeared from.

A ghost in the breeze.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**New chapter up! Thanks for the great review! And the follows/favorites! Hope you enjoy this, I'm loving seeing where it's going! I can't wait to see how their reunion pans out!

**Pairing:** Murphy MacManusxOFC- Destinee Michelle O'Brien (Side pairing: Conner MacManusxOFC- Grace Rosalyn O'Brien

**Rating: **M- Language, adult themes/situations, more language and slurs, killing, etc.

_**Disclaimer: I in no way, shape or form own The Boondock Saints or the characters portrayed within! I only own my OC's, their created families, and my own personal ideas/plotline twists that have been added in!**_

* * *

_**-Destinee's**_** POV-**

* * *

"_The bodies of six men were discovered early this morning found shot to death here in this warehouse behind me at Boston's docks. Multiple uniformed officers of Boston P.D are gathered here on scene at this moment, as they have been since around three A.M. sources say. As the day progresses, there have been rumblings that the victims are all members of the Chinese Mafia, but the identities of those found dead have not been released at this time. We are still waiting on an official statement from Boston P.D, but many are left wondering if this isn't another sign of the actual Saints' return. I'm Anna Devorak, KTRP- where you hear it first."_

My eyes never blinked as I watched the news stories flicker across the small flat screen in the back office of the design boutique we silently owned and managed. Every single station had reporters posted up down in the East Docks of the city, trading off shifts and reporting any snippet of information they managed to snatch up in their greedy hands as they waited in front of an old and beat up warehouse that was brimming with cops and investigators. I had called Duffy three times since seeing the initial report after arriving to the shop that morning, only to be waylaid each time. It was unlike him to let one of my calls go unanswered, much less three, and the uneasy feeling that had taken residence in my body continued to grow as each hour passed.

"New orders." Grace sighed, adding five new files to the stack I had barely touched since I'd shut myself off in the office, my only company the rattling reporters.

She sunk down into her chair in the desk beside mine, closing her eyes and tipping her head back against the leather tiredly. Both of us had felt strained since our talk with our rouge detective that morning. I mirrored her posture and threw an arm over my eyes after muting the television, blocking out both sound and sight. Something was _off_ about the way Duffy had spoken to us that morning; something lurked in that conversation, just waiting to be found out. But every attempt I had made to come up with whatever it was had been in vain and only added more questions to the overflowing mound of them already piled high inside my mind.

"Something is up with Duff." Grace murmured, slumping in her chair and resting her head on her hand.

I nodded absentmindedly, a low hum in my throat signaled that I was in agreement with her- our brotherly detective was hiding something from us.

"Do you suppose he thinks _we_ may have done it?" I asked, voicing a question I had been musing over for a few hours.

She frowned slightly, her amber eyes crinkling like mine. "What makes you say that?"

Sitting forward, I leaned against my desk and turned to look at her.

"The first hit, with the priest? He told us it _had_ to be a copycat murder, something we already would've thought anyway even if they weren't…if it wasn't impossible." I spoke, clearing my throat over the lump that had formed there. "They'd _never_ do a priest, much less in a church- it's against everything they stood for. But with this one…" I trailed off, motioning to the screen.

Shock crossed her features and she sat up some. "He didn't just _say_ it was a copycat, he asked _us_ which one we did! You don't…do you think he'd actually think _we_ were doing both? Our own _and_ copying Murph and Conn's?"

I winced a little at the familiar nicknames for the boys and moved on. "I don't know, but he was hiding something this morning Grace…I can feel it."

* * *

One closed up shop, a trip to the school so that we could pick up my chattering twins, a run home to grab our bags and some pajamas for Brendan and Dillon because we'd be late- plus their superhero capes- and _five_ more forwarded calls to Duffy later; we were finally on our way toward the familiar bar in the south part of town.

At first, it was nearly impossible to get me there. For one I was pregnant and not drinking, and for another- it was just too damn hard. Anytime we found ourselves in South Boston after that day they didn't come home, I'd see reminders in the forms of landmarks that made my heart ache with pain and McGinty's was a melting pot of painful emotions. After time though, his daughter who had come to live with him coaxed me in, and soon Grace and I were stopping by for dinner with her and Doc almost every night. We easily adopted him as a father figure, and when the boys were old enough to talk they quickly deemed him Grandpa.

"-she was really nice but she didn't want to play, it made me sad." Brendan sighed from the backseat, watching out the window.

I grinned a soft smile at his kindergarten troubles and looked back to see both him and Dillon swinging their legs back and forth in the air from where they sat up in the booster seats. He had been talking all evening about this new little girl he, Dillon and Mary had tried to play with during their first day.

"Maybe she just missed her Mommy." I said, ruffling his hair before sitting back up.

"Lots missed their mommies," Dillon murmured sadly. "And daddies."

A sharp stab of pain resounded through my chest and I shut my eyes briefly at the little boy's saddened tone when he whispered the last words. The older they were getting, the harder it was to satisfy their curiosity about their father. I had shown them some of the pictures we'd taken before they disappeared from our lives, but that wasn't enough. They wanted to _know_ him, and I didn't know how to tell them that they wouldn't get that chance. Grace squeezed my arm, alerting me to the fact that we were parked in the back spaces behind the bar where Missy had paid for a small driveway to be poured. I quickly got out of the car and popped open Dillon's door, leaning in to kiss his forehead despite his quiet protests, and unbuckled both of them before hoisting them each on a hip. Grace rounded up our bags and the boys' clothes, along with the sweet treat we'd hidden from them for after dinner, and we set off for the front door to the pub.

"I miss daddy too." I whispered, hugging them to me.

The bell tinkled overhead when Grace pushed the door open into the unsettlingly quiet bar and I frowned, looking around to find it completely empty. Normally it wouldn't be too full yet, but they usually had at least a few patrons by seven in the evening. Muffled noises drew me further in and I stopped by the foot of a staircase that led to the old storage room Doc had cleared out above the bar when I heard multiple echoes of masculine laugher, along with Doc's trademark curses, and arched a brow at Grace who simply shrugged.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite studs!" Missy called, rounding the corner that led to her adjoining apartment behind the bar.

"AUNT MISSY!"

Brendan and Dillon both shouted in my arms before beginning to squirm violently and I laughed, setting them down haphazardly so that they could run and tackle her instead. She grinned and then growled; tickling them both mercilessly until they squealed while Grace and I watched on.

"What's going on Miss?" I murmured, glancing around again before nodding my head toward the storage.

She huffed out a breath as the boys deserted her for their backpacks, Dillon searching for something and Brendan tying on his superman cape with a big, boyish smile on his face, before looking back at us with a grin on her lips and a glint in her eye.

"Closed for the night," Missy replied, walking toward us. "Da's got company."

A clearly mischievous look settled on her features and I again arched my eyebrows, tilting my head to the side as I gazed at her. She simply smirked back at me gleefully as if she had this huge secret while Grace dumped our bags on the bar.

"Company?" Grace asked, curious as she turned back to us.

"Yep." Missy smirked, popping the 'p' on her last word. "Buncha lookers if ye ask me, at least the two of 'em."

Her words made both Grace and I snort in amusement, knowing full well what a man-eater Missy was. If she had it her way, she'd sample both of whoever she was talking about before they left. I looked back up when silence settled around us while I had been unpacking the dessert for her and the boys for while Grace and I were out. Again she gazed at us with impish grins, excitement seemed to radiate from her and I frowned a little, settling a hand on my hip while I glared at her.

"Alright what the hell-"

"_Mommy_!" Brendan whispered, tugging on my jeans.

Missy laughed quietly at the interruption and I looked down to the bright blue eyes staring up at me. Again he had a hopeful expression as Dillon crowded him, the exact same one mirroring his brother on his own face.

"Can we go surprise Grandpa Doc?" Dillon spoke in hushed tones, like it was a secret.

I looked toward Missy and she nodded adamantly, the excitement she felt filling her features as she did so. The expression confused me but I figured it was only because she knew Doc would be cursing and yelling soon, a result of the boys sneaking up on him as they usually did now.

"Sure baby," I said, nodding. "Don't bother his friends though, okay?"

The boys took off, dashing at full speed up the staircase even though they were surprisingly quiet. I watched as they moved in tandem while only looking at each other in that silent communication that only twins could share as they tackled their mission of scaring the shit out of Doc. I giggled when they ducked low, sliding through the gap left in the open doorway without making a sound, before I turned back to see Missy grinning at me almost manically.

"Alright!" I hissed, stepping forward. "_Out_ with it Miss-"

The sound of shouting filled the quiet bar from the room above and cut me off midsentence as I spoke. Grace and I turned our heads with our eyebrows raised toward the noise but didn't move. It wasn't uncommon for the boys to actually succeed in sneaking up and scaring Doc into a fit of curses which they then told him he was going to get in trouble for. Missy snickered behind me, enjoying her father's outburst before beginning to open her mouth to tell us something.

But she never actually got around to it.

The childlike duel screams of Brendan and Dillon rising above the general shouting above had a sharp twinge running up my spine and I dove for the bags on the bar top instinctively, Grace barely a step behind me. The guns came out of their hiding places inside the bags easily, the cool weapon sliding into my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and I bolted, ignoring the frantic shouts of Missy behind us as she attempted to tell us something over the shouting now becoming louder throughout the bar. My sister followed right on my heels, just as protective of her nephews as me, almost like she was their own mother.

We busted through the doorframe of the storage room in sync, relying on our ability to read each other silently after years of doing it. I jumped a fallen chair before my eyes settled on the two dark haired little boys that belonged to me and I went to them immediately, my gun already aimed and cocked at the shadows across the pool table and opposite me on instinct.

"D-d-d-desi…d-don't sh-sh-sh-sh-shoot 'em!" He stuttered, waving his cane. "FUCK! ASS!"

Doc stood in a fit, trying to stutter through the curses that continued to fall from his lips as the twins crowded around my legs, obviously frightened and confused. I ignored the bodies opposite me and Doc's incoherent explanation as I focused on checking my children over, searching for injuries. That's why I didn't notice Grace who was hyperventilating next to me until I turned and caught her wide, wild eyed stare directed behind me where my gun was still trained with one hand, the other pushing the boys behind my legs protectively.

"Grace?" I hissed, adrenaline pitching my tone high.

No response.

"_Grace_!" I snapped, staring at her gun that hung uselessly at her side as if she didn't even know she had it there anymore.

Still nothing.

"For _Christ_ sakes, GRAC-" I shouted, waving my free hand at her before returning my arm around the boys.

I froze when a familiar warm voice sounded behind me to cut off my sister's name, making my heart thump painfully hard in my chest as I clutched at Brendan and Dillon with one hand, the other shakily still holding my gun on the bodies behind me. Grace sucked in repeated deep breaths, clutching onto the pool table in front of her for dear life as I concentrated on simply breathing.

"Lord's fuckin' name."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**New chapter up! If you have feedback, please feel free to share! I definitely want to hear what you think of the storyline and how it's progressing as Murphy and Destinee reunite!

**Pairing:** Murphy MacManusxOFC- Destinee Michelle O'Brien (Side pairing: Conner MacManusxOFC- Grace Rosalyn O'Brien)

**Rating: **M- Language, adult themes/situations, more language and slurs, killing, etc.

_**Disclaimer: I in no way, shape or form own The Boondock Saints or the characters portrayed within! I only own my OC's, their created families, and my own personal ideas/plotline twists that have been added in!**_

* * *

_**-Destinee's POV-**_

* * *

Pure silence following the gentle yet admonishing tone rang throughout the dusty storage room that now smelt of greasy food and spilt beer, the scent assaulting my senses when the noise of yelling and voices dropped away and left us all in its wake. The only thing that I could hear were Grace's still panting breaths that my own now matched, along with the frantic pounding of my heart against my chest. It beat so hard that I could literally _feel_ it through the blood in my veins, making them jump against the soft skin of my neck from the inside. The quiet stillness was absolutely deafening, the lack of noise a dull roar that was much louder than the voices had been as it filled my ears over my heartbeat, increasing the pressure around me like a giant weight.

"No." I murmured, my eyes darting to my left where Grace hovered in my peripheral vision.

I didn't move a single muscle, my body remained frozen in its bent position where I hovered over Brendan and Dillon who were crushed against my legs by my right arm, my gun still leveled if even a little shakily, in the direction of the strangers behind me. Strangers who…_weren't_ strangers at all. My own twin sister didn't respond to my words even as I glanced at her, instead she remained frozen with her gaze fixed on those behind us.

Breathing.

That was all either of us could seem to do.

"Aye lass."

An involuntary gasp ripped through my parted lips when he spoke, my spine straightening like a steel rod had been crammed down through it to leave me in a ridged and upright position. This new voice, the second one to speak since Grace and I had rushed into the room, sent a thrilling tingle straight through my entire being. Just as it had every single day since I first met the man. The single difference though was that _this _thrill came accompanied by a sharp chill of impossibility...because I knew the truth.

_He was dead._

Dead; completely and absolutely dead.

I was told; assured by Smecker and Duffy both along with Doc…so there was no way the voice that rang out behind me, warm and thick with his natural Irish tones that set my very heart to racing even faster and caused my stomach to flutter low in my core, could really be there.

There was only _one_ explanation.

"This is a dream." I hissed to myself, freeing what had to be my dream twins momentarily so I could press my fingers against my eyes while still holding the gun level behind me…just in case. "It's only a _dream_ Destinee, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake _UP_."

A tiny stomp of my foot punctuated my ending word and I ground my teeth together in frustration when a quiet chuckle rang out behind me from the first man who had spoken, yet another man who simply could NOT be there.

Because he was dead, and this _wasn't_ real.

"Ye not dreamin' Des." The second impossibility murmured, his tone soothing and soft. "Turn 'round, ye'll see."

I was slow to open my eyes that were still downcast, trained on the two dark headed boys that were now hugging my legs as my breathing sped up, causing them to feel a twinge of alarm. Sucking in oxygen was my first priority so that I could settle my breathing, cease the damn shaking in my gun hand, _and_ calm the twins that crowded my feet worriedly. I cut my eyes right, taking in Doc's shocked and worried expression along with Missy's that no longer held a single ounce of the mischief it had before. I angled my head left again, my eyes resting on the form of my sister that was still slightly hunched over the dirty pool table next to me. Her breathing had eased like mine, but her eyes were still glued on the people behind us who simply _couldn't_ be. Movement at my feet distracted me from staring at Grace and I looked down to find Dillon rearranging himself to where he could see behind us, Brendan copying his movements.

"Mommy?" Brendan asked, glancing back up at me with confused eyes. "Mommy who are they?"

There was a sharp inhale behind me that I ignored when I bent swiftly to press a kiss on Brendan's head, hugging him to my legs before I copied the display once more for Dillon. A small chuckle tried to claw its way up from inside me when Dillon squirmed under my touch, ever the independent one who was fascinated with other people.

But _how_ could I answer his question?

How could I explain when it was something even _I_ couldn't grasp?

"It's nothing baby," I murmured instead, offering him a smile. "Everything is just fine."

The inquisitive little boy looked unsure for a moment before nodding swiftly, his questioning gaze returning to the men behind me as I slowly built up the courage through a mental pep talk to finally turn. Everyone else in the shadowed room remained silent, not even daring to speak as I carefully turned on my heel, managing to keep both boys behind me and my gun still leveled on those in the shadows unshakingly.

Unknown.

That was my first impression when my sight immediately latched onto the man all the way to my right, his position the furthest back in the group. He was new to them, that much I could be assured of. New and unknown to me, making my eyes narrow at him untrustingly. My fingers tightened on my gun as I stared him down, waiting for him to speak and explain himself. He didn't though, and he actually seemed to cower back a little with wide eyes as if he was afraid of me...with damn good reason. I was positively lethal _without_ being provoked...and I had been provoked. A soft whistle served as a distraction from him though when my hand tightened a little more on the gun and my eyes flitted to the left rapidly, screeching to a halt when they landed on the second man.

Known.

My mind screamed the fact at me as my eyes widened impossibly further, taking him in. The familiar stance of the man called to my memories and senses, letting me know that it was in fact him standing there before me- regardless of rather or not it was supposedly impossible. He was a bit taller and his frame had filled out a some, but it was undoubtedly him. Though his features were a little more worn from obvious hard labor and a bit more rugged, the bright blue gaze and lighter hair was the exact same as it had been seven years ago. As was the knowing smirk that played on his lips while he gazed at me, despite the fact that I still held a gun level with his face, a completely blank and unfeeling expression on my own.

_Conner_.

"Tis good ta see ye lass." He murmured, his eyes searching mine as his soothing tone wrapped around me.

A sharp gasp for air sounded out to my right and I cut my eyes back to Grace as she stumbled up from her leaning position against the table when he finally spoke like it had snapped her out of a trance. She took two quick steps and latched onto my arm, wrapping her body around with me to protect the boys and keep them from view. It was our first instinct, regardless of the situation. Conner's gaze lifted from me to take in that of my sister, tracing over her features as his own eyes seemed to soften while looking at her. She wouldn't meet his gaze though, simply concentrated on containing the scuffle between our legs as the boys vied for the best places to peek out from behind us while Conner's brow furrowed as he caught glimpses of them.

And then I finally turned to _him_.

No amount of breathing could prepare me for the moment my wide-eyed gaze met the one I'd felt burning into me since he'd first spoken. He'd put on both muscle and weight since he'd been gone. His shoulders seemed broader, filled out, and more protective than ever before. His dark brown hair that was almost black when it was wet seemed haphazardly cut and laid on his head in the familiar controlled way it usually did where Conner's had always been all _over_ the freaking place. His features had taken on a rather rugged, though still ridiculously sexy, edge like his brother's as well and it left me wondering what exactly the twins had been doing while they were gone.

When they were supposed to be _dead_...or so we were told.

His normally clear, sky blue gaze was stormy as he looked back at me and I realized that even with seven years apart…I could _still_ read him as if he'd never gone away. He was overwhelmed with the sight in front of him as his eyes kept darting between me and the twins at my feet who had grown restless in the silence as they tried to fumble forward from the grasps of Grace and I that held strong. He softened when he saw me though, the little lines at the corners of his eyes smoothing while he seemed to drink me in like I did him, and I refused to let my mind go to why he would since he _left_. And then there was the telltale fire burning slowly in his eyes…he was angry about something.

Angry with _me_.

Well, fine and dandy for him- I was pretty pissed too.

"Ye feel like ye need'ta keep yer gun on me and me brother?"

My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched at the accusation in his tone as his own eyes narrowed on me yet again. The muscle ticking in the side of his jaw was a dead giveaway to the woman who knew him inside and out…the woman he loved.

_Supposedly_.

"I don't know MacManus," I hissed, my voice dropping like shards of ice. "Can't be _too_ careful around here these days."

Murphy's fists clenched with built up and caged tension as he stared at me. Neither of us moved a bit when our siblings edged closer to each of us; Grace placing a supportive hand on the small of my back while Conner simply overshadowed his brother just in case even though we all knew he'd never hurt me. Both Irish brothers gazed at me, the gun in my hand still level and trained on the both of them out of pure instinct and habit while my brain rapidly fired question after question to bypass and work through the shock.

Murphy and Conner…alive.

Not dead…here, _alive_, in front of me.

"Doc, you want to tell me what the _hell_ is going on in this goddamned bar?" I snapped, my angry eyes finally falling on him.

I had yet to feel the utter betrayal I knew would later be coming. He'd told us that the MacManus brothers were dead. He'd been the very first to break the news, supposedly told by Smecker and Duffy who left it to him to break it to us.

"Lord's _name_!" Conner admonished.

"Shut it Conner." I snapped again, not even sparing him a glance.

"Ye not even goin' ta call me by my-" he pouted audibly.

I cocked the gun threateningly and he immediately shut up, though I did notice from the corner of my vision that he and Murphy slowly began to ease around the edge of the pool table, their intended direction near us. They came closer with light steps that made no noise, trying not to be seen as threatening while they did so. I could only continue to glare at the father figure that stood before Grace and I, my expression stony.

"We jus...I had t-t-to...we ju- j-j-ju-just wanted t-t-t-t...aw FUCK! ASS!" Doc spat, jerking violently.

The older man was obviously overwhelmed as Grace and I stood watching and waiting for answers, beside himself with what to do in the new situation. He'd helped lie to us about Conner and Murphy's deaths and knew it. He'd continued the charade as well, even after he became such a huge part of our lives after.

"We just," Murphy murmured near me, now close enough that his hand closed over mine gently on the gun. "Wanted ta keep ye _safe_."

My stony gaze turned to take in his honest and truth-filled one as he looked at me almost pleadingly, his fingers stroking themselves gently over mine where he'd closed his hand on mine that held my gun steady. The action was so simple, yet so powerful, triggering multiple memories of gentle touches just like it that kept me grounded when he was still here.

But now instead of helping, it was only adding fuel to the flickering fire inside of me.

"Yes!"  
"No!"  
"YES!"

"Boys," I murmured, breaking my gaze with Murphy as their bickering commenced.

"NO!"  
"_YES_!"

And then they were at each other, trying to land hits on the other's arms around my legs as well as Grace's. I willingly let Murphy take the gun from my grip so that I could concentrate even though I was seriously considering shooting him and his brother both with it once I was done, and attempted to grab at least _one_ of my unruly twins. They scuffled around my hands expertly though, dodging at just the right second and continuing to go at it as they argued over whose turn it was to see. I heard the quiet snickers from in front of me as they grew louder in their fight and looked up to see Murphy and Conner both smirking, enjoying seeing me struggle.

"_Stop_ it." I hissed, "You're only encouraging them!"

"Th' wee lads seem fine t'me lass," Conner started as Grace and I continued to struggle for control.

"Brendan _Murphy_!" Grace snapped, losing her patience under our current stress. "And Dillon _Conner_!"

My head whipped in her direction with wide eyes and I winced at her slip of their middle names, just in time to catch her cover her mouth with her hand almost comically. Missy gasped quietly and Doc stuttered while Murphy and Conner froze in front of us, staring at the boys with newly widened and shocked eyes.

"Sorry." Both boys murmured guiltily in unison, looking down.

Heavy silence filled the room thickly until I cleared my throat and placed a hand on each of their heads, motioning them toward Missy.

"It's okay honey. How about you go with Aunt Missy and get ready for supper, yeah?"

I glanced up at her with an arched brow and she nodded quickly, stooping down to grab one twin in each arm as they squirmed in her grip to look back at us while she walked away. Conner lost his footing when he took in the bright blue gaze that matched both his and Murphy's from Bren that stared back at him before snapping his head toward Grace. I let out a deep sigh when they were finally out of sight and earshot before dragging my fingers through my hair to relieve tension, avoiding the burning gaze I felt on me. Conner mimicked me while Murphy only continued to stare at me hard, formulating ideas inside his mind no doubt.

"Are they…?" Conner stuttered, glancing between Grace and I. "Is one of 'em...?"

He gestured toward Grace vaguely and she snorted, crossing her arms with a quick and stern shake of her head.

"Hell no." Grace laughed. "Those twins are a _damn_ handful and they don't belong to me, not by birth at least."

"Jesus _Christ_ Grace!" I hissed, glaring at her.

Why doesn't she just _give_ everything away entirely here and now!? First the slip up with their names and now admitting that they're twins; she might as well have anchored a neon flashing sign saying they belonged to Murphy.

"Lord's fuckin' name Des!" Conner snapped, glaring back at me.

My eyes narrowed menacingly. "Don't you take that tone with me Conner, I'll knock you one up the-"

"So ye move on an give 'nother lad's boys _OUR_ names?!"

Murphy's outburst was furious as he cut me off, his voice rising to an all-out yell of agitation. His eyes blazed with an inner fire and his hands shook violently before he clenched them tightly in an attempt to stop it. My own eyes widened in surprise at his increasing fury while he stood there, unbelieving that he had _yet_ to put two and two together.

"What are you _talking_-" I started, incredulous.

"Saw ye with 'im this mornin' Des," Murphy snapped, stepping closer. "I'm not stupid."

I glared at him, realizing immediately after his words and Conner's subtle wince that the car I'd seen out of place that morning in the neighborhood was in fact them. Fresh anger laced through me again that he'd been spying and _still_ hadn't come to say anything, making me wonder if either of them ever even would have if we hadn't found them first. I instantly traded explaining the boys' origin in favor of an angry outburst, taking my own step closer to the stubborn and hotheaded Irishman in front of me.

"You _LEFT_." I shouted with a point toward his chest, my voice high and shrill.

"Aye, t' protect ye!" He shouted back, lifting his arms in agitation.

"You weren't protecting anyone by _leaving_!" I hissed. "Much less _lying_-"

"I wanted ye t'ave a life!" He yelled, cutting me off and gesturing toward the door the boys had disappeared behind with Missy. "If I 'adn't left ye in th' first place ye wouldn't even _'ave_ 'em!"

"Yes I _WOULD_." I shrilled, crossing my arms defiantly.

I breathed heavily, starting down the road of revelations he still wasn't grasping because he was too wrapped up in his anger. Silence settled again as Conner and Grace both ping-ponged there gazes back and forth between Murphy and I, each edging closer with every step Murphy and I took toward each other as the shouting continued.

"Th' hell ye talking about lass?" He asked, stepping closer. "If ye went with me we'd be t'gether on the run, not ye and this other guy."

"What _other_ guy Murphy?!" I shrieked, gazing at him as I threw my hands up. "There _is_ no other guy, don't you GET that?!"

He stopped then, staring at my panting form as my chest heaved and I glared back at him, and his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and maybe even…_lust_? Doc had moved toward the door while we argued sheepishly, the Mexican following quickly on his heels. I noticed that Grace was tugging at Conner's arm insistently who wasn't budging an inch even as she urged him to quietly. He just kept staring at me, realization dawning on his features slowly even before his brother's.

"They're twins brother." Conner muttered, nodding absentmindedly.

I crossed my arms and looked off toward the door, picking up on the vague noises of Dillon and Brendan being entertained by Missy as they started on supper. My eyes darted back to a dusty old clock on the wall and I groaned quietly when I noticed the time reflected back at me. There was no way we would be able to make our mark and that meant we wouldn't be getting to them for at _least_ another two weeks.

"Aye, so?" Murphy questioned, looking from me to Conner.

I understood his question; he and Conner weren't the only twins in the room. The boys could have easily picked up the fraternal twin gene from Grace and I without the help of Murphy.

But he _had_ helped.

"They're twins who look a hell of a lot like you," I murmured, my voice tired as the adrenaline and the situation wore down and left me tapped out. "Twins who have also been named after you and your brother."

I waited but he just stared at me in complete shock, not speaking as his bright blue eyes tracked my every move.

"They're _yours_ Murph."


End file.
